


A World of Impermanence

by Lightforms



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Breast cancer, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Slash, UST, matt fraction!hawkeye, mcu mashup fix-it for C/C fan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightforms/pseuds/Lightforms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fix-it for myself as a Clint/Coulson fan trying to figure out the problem of MCU Laura. They don't actually get together romantically here. Just a Laura fix-it.</p><p>I love Matt Fraction Hawkeye and Agents of SHIELD. This ficlet is in the future, months after Phil returned from that weird Blue Planet. I assume that Hawkeye has been working on the side for Coulson on and off for years, knows he's alive again and still takes occasional missions for Shield when asked. Timey-whimey hand wavey timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World of Impermanence

"Laura and Clint" was a thing that was hidden and safe. But even every day life takes a toil on Avengers. Bobbi, Jessica, Katie-Kate... His relationships were getting healthier as he aged. He gave up the Bed-Stuy apartments in New York after the mess with the Track Suit Mafia concluded. The building was safe now and managed by the watchful eye of an older long time resident with too much time on her hands. Life just moved on. 

He found himself in a new life in a farmhouse with another steadfast, strong lady and this time, it seemed to be working. Nat and Katie-Kate and even America dropped by once they found out about the kiddos. But they didn't know about the breast cancer. No one did until it was too late and it was just him and the kids in a lonely valley surrounded by mountains for a month. He grieved stoically, for the kids' sake. No one knew... except for Laura's mom and dad, who watched his little ones when he got called away. It has now been more than three months since Laura's death. Two, since he'd been called away.

It was too much at times, balancing his grief with his job and being a long distance father. Compartmentalize, that's what Coulson mentioned in an unguarded moment of downtime between missions. And it was all he had left from being overwhelmed in inopportune workplace situations. Rooftops, windowsills, safe houses. Sure, his workspaces were different than most, but it still became a full time personal mission to not get distracted by stray thoughts during work hours. Mostly, he was fine when kept busy, but those quiet moments, when the brain wanders, Coulson's voice telling him to put it away was the only thing keeping him steady. Unfortunately, in his profession, waiting for long hours and being steady were essential. He tried to pretend nothing was wrong, but after a few days, pretending was too tiresome. 

Shutting up and shutting down made it easier to focus on the current steps in the mission. One day at a time. Put his feelings away. Do his job. He would not be distracted. He could protect his country from falling apart. He could do that. He could make up for what he couldn't protect at home.

Coulson saw it. Hawkeye wasn't the only one with eagle eyes. Of course he saw the quiet regression from his best operative, his favorite operative. Only in his own quiet moments, would Coulson briefly let slip the feeling of comfort, admiration and maybe something more for Clint. And then dismiss that feeling and move on. Because he was an adult and competent in his romantic relationships. His romantic relationships. His latest had just gotten a sniper bullet to her head and the one before that thought he was dead, even while he saved her from a raving lunatic. He didn't often venture into the territory of his heart. Life had shown him that it was with good reason. 

Perhaps it was the influence of one of those quiet moments which led him to organizing his own honeytrap assignment, which only ended up with his heart a mess and trying to right a wrong on a blue planet. Looking back, his crash landing from the space-time portal cruelly allowed his unconscious mind to take his heart in hand and squeeze a purpose for awaking. He wanted to wallow in his dreamed perfection of a possible relationship, in bed with someone happy to see him. Unfortunately, he needed to wake up and avenge her death. Was he taking the shot to the head in the middle of his date personally? Perhaps. Maybe he was just doing all he could do to survive himself. PTSD? Righting a wrong? He didn't want to look too closely.

Avenging and protecting were his business, not obsessing over his broken relationships. It was just hard to do when the two intertwined so violently. 

Coulson moved on. He avenged when he failed protecting. But mostly, he protected in the name of Shield. And now he saw those eyes, that look, on Clint -- haunted sadness and loss. He glimpsed it in his face only in the down moments, breaks in meetings where Clint would grab a donut and return, waiting, and stare away at nothing. Something was off and bothering Clint and making him morose, which was not normal for Clint. Quiet, sometimes; melancholy, no. When walking past him on the jump seat of the quinjet to their next mission, it became too much to ignore. It could be mission related stress, but the sadness and uncomfortableness seemed to stay with Clint all the time now. 

They were comfortable with each other after their six years of various missions together, but they always kept private lives private. Coulson did not want to intrude on this as he carefully looked for a way to ask his agent if he was okay. The insult that Clint wasn't mission ready was not what he intended to construe. Coulson often checked in with his agent on missions for personal assessment and mission status. Back on base, he still used an agent/asset relationship in their social interactions despite their comfortable compatibility in the field. The nature of Clint's demeanor was only discernible to someone who watched him for years. He was as cocky as ever out on mission rooftops and a persistent talkative voice in his ear. He could be quiet, meditative and serious when necessary, but he most often was easy going and relaxed. Something was slightly off. Clint was still professional, offered up advice and insight when asked, but Coulson noticed a change in this last assignment. Coulson, the one who professionally looked after Clint's wellbeing, tried hard to not let his caring bleed too far.

This time, Coulson was ready to get personal. He really did care too much once he let people in, for all that he tried to hide behind his work and his Agent Agent demeanor. He had to be careful with whom he ultimately chose to befriend because he ended up having too much hope and optimism for them. He was a loyalist and a friend for life. No one needed to really know that. Nick knew and kept a quiet eye on him, letting him vent when things got too personal and he had feelings to expunge. It didn't happen often, and usually over a particularly stressful time, and not for very long. Nick was still the bad ass who won't put up with your bullshit, but he was one of the few personal, trusted friends Coulson could count on. It was something he wanted for Clint, with Clint. In that frame of mind, of helping a friend, Coulson decided that was something he was ready do with Clint. He wanted to move their friendship from just work related stuff to something where he could ask Clint what was going on in his life and not feel awkward about it.

"Clint, I'd like to talk to you after work. Would you have some time to meet this weekend?" Coulson carefully phrased his question after the younger man turned in his after-action report and was about to go off duty for the next few days for a well deserved break. It was a bit manipulative perhaps, asking this in his office and knowing Clint would think this was work related, no matter how he asked.

Clint squinted his eyes and quirked his head at the unusual request. He searched Coulson's face for some hint of trouble ahead. He knew if it was serious, it wouldn't have been a request after work. The hesitancy was evident in his pause before quizzically responding, "Sure thing, boss. What's going on?"

Coulson let out a slow breath and made his face relax into a smile. He felt like he had to move slowly. Sharing feelings shouldn't be so difficult, not at his age. "Nothing so serious regarding work, I just thought..." He looked away. This was harder for him than it should be. He got up and rounded the front of his desk, where he leaned back on it and tried for casual and non confrontational.

"You seemed... I just wanted to make sure you were alright." He sighed again. This wasn't working out how he would like. He didn't want to do this here. He looked back at Clint, straight into his eyes with a calm seriousness. He just needed to say how he felt. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just noticed something has been bothering you lately and I thought you might like to talk about it." God, he felt like an idiot. "Or not, you don't have to. I just wanted to offer you my help, as a friend." He made himself stop rambling. 

Clint was still looking at him funny, but his expression softened from the previous look of slight confusion and avoidance to a bit of disturbed sadness. Clint couldn't hold Coulson's intense gaze any longer and glanced around the office. 

"Um, yeah, sure. This weekend." 

He didn't want to talk about his grief from Laura's death here, or ever, but he didn't want to pass up a chance to get to know his mentor outside of Shield. All the emotion that he usually held at bay was starting to well up in his chest. Hanging out with someone might do him good, get his mind off things. He didn't need to talk about certain things.

"Sure," he tried more confidently, "swing by my place in the city on Saturday." He was planning to get to the farmhouse immediately, but he'd postpone for Phil Coulson. He looked back, pasting on the best smile he could muster. He could turn and flee now, and he normally would have, but Coulson's face of concern held him in place. He dropped his smile and his body was suddenly immobilized with emotions. He couldn't breathe. His chest felt tight. Here was someone finally noticing his pain and cared about him since Laura's death. The breast cancer had come on quickly after the diagnosis. They suffered alone in their fight against it, brief as it was, and he mourned her privately on his own. The funeral was a private affair, much like their lives. He hadn't contacted Natalie or Kate. They were going to give him grief for not contacting them. (More like kick his butt while consoling him.) He had just put it all off. It was too much to handle while trying to arrange the funeral and their lives without Laura. One thing at a time. Compartmentalize. 

Protection in secrecy was the idea, such as it was. He couldn't protect her at all. That was the hardest part to comprehend. All the secrecy kept the bad guys away, all the weird hybrids and aliens, but death still found his family. He had failed. Worse yet, there was no one to go after or blame. It just was.

The time away from Laura all these months after her death, the time forced away from his kids because of work, and then seeing the intimacy and kindness in Coulson's eyes and words -- it was all too much. Three months since her death and he couldn't take the silence anymore.

He squeezed his eyes closed and breathed out and in, seeking stillness for a moment. When he slowly opened his eyes, Coulson was approaching him, arm stretched out to reach around his side.

"Are you okay?" Coulson took his hand with his other arm to guide Clint to the couch and sat down beside him. For a moment, Clint thought Coulson was going in for a hug and he wanted it. The thought was strangely more comforting than terrifying, as it might normally be. Coulson let go of him and waited. 

Clint realized in that non-hug moment that he was off, so very far from okay, if he wanted a hug from Phil Coulson. He could talk to him. He could open up. He trusted Coulson and Coulson would keep his grief private. He trusted this man with every aspect of his life out in the field. It wasn't a big leap to trust him here, with his grief, with his personal life.

Clint drooped his head, scrubbed at the back of his head with his free hand in a nervous gesture and closed his eyes once more.

"Yeah? No..., maybe not." Clint turned and looked at Coulson. It was too personal, but Coulson felt safe and easy to talk with. He needed this type of intimacy, he knew. He missed this interaction so desperately with his kids and Laura. He missed talking, sharing and being with them. It hurt. He was an outgoing and physical person held silent all these months.

Clint gazed off into the distance again saying, "My wife died of breast cancer three months ago. I haven't been able to see my kids because of work. I haven't had the time to deal with it, to figure anything out... except feel this overwhelming sadness. I was going to go get my kids from their grandparents and take them home. I haven't been back for awhile now. It's time to go home."

Clint stilled and reassessed. The confession felt good. It lightened his chest and made it easier to breathe. Clint looked back over and Coulson's concern and worry was evident in his shocked gaping face. He didn't think Coulson knew about his family or Laura's death. Nick helped him cover her identity in the paperwork and if the whole purpose was to cover and conceal to protect, that meant from Shield too.

Caught out for a moment, Coulson regained himself and said quietly, "I'm sorry about your wife and the cancer. And the time away from your kids. Please, don't let me keep you from them." He paused for more words. They lost their mom. Their dad has been gone for months working for the good of the nation. "I'm so sorry." He blinked and looked pained. Another pause. So many thoughts started to flood his mind about Clint's confession. How long has he kept his family from us, me, Shield? Should I have known? Would that have even mattered, with Hydra in Shield? Probably for the best. Does the Black Widow know? Does any of this even matter? Not with Clint sitting right in front of him, gone from his family, lost from his wife and talking to him right here. "Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?" He started to go through more scenarios in his head about how to secure the kids (how many kids does Clint have?) and if Clint needed more time off immediately and how to arrange his future mission priorities. And then, he tried hard to shut that all down and really look at Clint again.

Clint studied Coulson's face and measured his words to see how to respond. As his boss, Phil was probably trying to assess if he needed psych. In truth, he probably did, but he wanted a friend first. Clint only saw earnest, kind compassion emanating from Phil. He knew how jaded and compromised his assessment could be at this moment, but he found his compromised emotional state was safe with Phil, just as it has always been since they started working together. Suddenly, Clint wanted to tumble into any sort of comfort, stay and not come out that feeling. He was so tired of being lonely and cut off, suffering on his own. Usually, Phil was on the other end of his comm taking care of things he didn't have to worry about. That was Laura at home for him. In the past.

No one knew about his family for their protection. So, he had no one to grieve with. Who knew he couldn't protect her from something as mundanely terrifying as illness. Not aliens, nor terrorists, or someone holding an old grudge on the World's Greatest Marksman. He didn't want to be alone anymore feeling these things. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was out of bounds with his boss, but Clint trusted few others as much as Coulson.

So he said, "Yeah, would you mind going back home with me to get the kids? I don't think I could handle the long ride back alone. It'd be nice to have some company." After a beat, he thought about his kids and Coulson's reaction to them. It made him smile. Coulson could be buttoned up in his job, but Clint knew about his geekiness and sly humor and how much he cared about someone who finally got under his armor. "You'll love my kids. Yeah, you should definitely meet my kids." Coulson's eyes widened a fraction and it was gone in an instant. For all the stoic moments of Phil's own bad-assery, it was the mention of Hawkeye's offspring that made him flinch. Clint outright laughed then, the first time in a long while. Caught, Coulson started to flush, and Clint said with a disarming grin, "Don't worry, you're great with kids." 

Coulson gave him a slight look of disbelief. For all his lack of romantic relationship experience, he had even less experience with children. Such were the perks of his job.

"No really, you deal with the junior agents and me all the time. Same thing! Honestly!"

"Mmm-hmm." Coulson smiled back and huffed, "If they're yours, I'm sure they are great. I'd love to meet them." 

Clint then found himself in the unenviable situation where he would have to explain just how long that journey to the farmhouse would be, where the kids were currently located in relation to that, and how he might also have a flock of chickens, with various Avenger names, to attend to once he returned home. (Clint didn't want to say anything about that last one, but his kids were sure to overshare about all the Steves and Black Widows clucking about.) He resigned himself to embarrassment in front of his boss. Such is the life of a Hawkeye. He couldn't help but to trust Phil Coulson and he was ready to share this with him, if Phil agreed.

Phil was a bad-ass, like Nick, and what Clint didn't know yet was that Phil was willing to be there for Clint too, just as Nick had been for both of them. One shouldn't take true friendships for granted in a world of such impermanence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kathar for the obligatory chickens that wandered into my story. These chickens are inspired by her lovely tale about chickens in Washed Ashore, with entire wonderful chapters on various non chickens, like Clint and Coulson... Go check it out!


End file.
